


I Loved You, God How I Loved You

by westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2000-11-24
Updated: 2000-11-24
Packaged: 2019-05-15 23:30:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14800023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist/pseuds/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist
Summary: Personal problems don't wait for when its convenient





	1. I Loved You, God How I Loved You

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

TITLE: "I Loved You, God, How I Loved You" (1/2) 

AUTHORS: Luna and Jessica  

CATEGORY: General (rated G, even) 

ARCHIVE: Yes, but please tell us first. 

SUMMARY: Personal problems don't wait for when it's convenient. 

NOTES: Talia, Deirdre, and Barry belong to us. Everyone else comes from Aaron Sorkin's mind. Huge props to John Wells, whose working title and concepts we kidnapped and adapted shamelessly, and who definitely outclasses our humble efforts. Feedback is strongly encouraged.

 

I Loved You, God, How I Loved You

"Radical changes." Sam squinted against the early morning sunlight that was filtering through Josh's office window. "I think we need to make some radical changes to the--"

Josh scoffed. "I can't believe they're not pitching Martinez tonight."

"Are you listening to me?"

"No." Josh's coffee cup disappeared behind the sports page.

"This is important, Josh."

"So is this! The Sox are making a playoff run and they're not--"

Sam took his glasses off and placed them on the desk. "Josh."

Josh looked up, scanned Sam's expression, and folded his newspaper reluctantly. "Radical changes?"

Sam nodded and put his glasses back on. "Yeah, I think we should--"

He was interrupted by a soft rapping on the door. Turning around, he saw Donna standing in the doorway. "Sam, you've got a phone call."

"I'm not taking calls right now, Donna."

"I know, but Cathy wanted me to tell you--"

"Donna, what part of 'I'm not taking calls right now' do you find difficult to understand?"

Donna sighed. "Look, Sam, don't shoot the messenger. Cathy wanted me to tell you that Talia's on the phone for you."

Sam's posture changed, and he locked eyes with Josh for a moment before he stood, nearly knocking over his chair in the process, and hurried past Donna toward his office.

Josh sighed deeply and leaned back in his chair, lacing his fingers behind his head.

"Josh?" Donna watched Josh looking at the desk. "Josh?"

He looked up. "Yeah?"

"Who's Talia?"

Josh sighed again. "Sam's sister."

"Is--"

"I don't know, Donna."

Josh picked up the newspaper and tried to read, but he couldn't make sense of the words. He rose from his desk and paced impatiently until he saw Sam's figure in the doorway.

"Sam? Is it--"

Sam nodded slowly and ran a shaky hand over his face. "I need to go."

"Go, go, I'll explain it to Leo."

"Are you sure?"

Josh quickly gathered up Sam's papers, briefcase and jacket. "Sam, I'm sure. Just go, okay?"

Sam looked dazed. "Yeah." He took his things from Josh and haltingly made his way to the door.

After Sam was gone, Donna poked her head back in.

"Do you need anything?"

"Find out when Leo's free." Josh sat at his desk again and studied the report. "Radical changes. Hmm."

* * *

"Bonnie! Ginger!"

They looked up as Toby strode in. "I need all the notes on the victims' rights bill," he proclaimed. "Let's get this thing done today."

"I thought that was for Thursday," Ginger protested.

"We're getting it done today," he repeated. "We're going to get everything together, and we're going to have this policy figured out by the end of the day, just because we can. I'm not going to waste my time, and therefore, you don't get to waste your time." Bonnie rolled her eyes. Toby frowned at her, and then shrugged. "I need coffee," he muttered, and walked away.

Ginger and Bonnie looked after him. "Was that a good mood or a bad mood?" Ginger wondered.

"Beats the hell out of me."

Toby cut across the bullpen to the beverage cart, and poured himself a cup of coffee. He took a sip, then regarded the cup with dismay. "Who made this?" he demanded of the room.

A few staffers exchanged apprehensive looks, then turned back to their work. Toby continued, "Someone should suffer for this. This -- this is criminally weak coffee."

No one answered him, so he cast one last dire look around the room and added a dollop of cream to the offensive drink. As he turned around, he nearly walked into C.J.

She stepped back quickly. "Sorry."

He nodded, checking to make sure he hadn't sloshed coffee on himself.

"I was just going to get some coffee," she added, awkwardly.

"Yeah, don't bother," he said, in a distant tone. "It's practically water."

Toby turned and headed down the hall. C.J. followed him. "I'm giving the standard answer on the budget meetings. Progress is being made, we're working out the details."

"Yeah."

"We're confident that compromises will be reached."

"Good. I'm doing victims' rights."

"It's Tuesday," C.J. pointed out. "I thought that was--"

He cut her off, walking faster. "I'm doing it today."

"Your tie's crooked," she told him. Toby turned back to glare at her, then stepped into his office and closed the door hard behind him. She stood still, confused, for a few seconds, then turned and left.

* * *

Josh entered Leo's office quietly, sat down, and waited for Leo to acknowledge him. After a few moments, Leo spoke, without taking his eyes off his reading. "These numbers are ridiculous. Have you looked at this?"

"Stauber's budget report? Yeah."

"Ridiculous. And what's this he keeps repeating about putting social security in a lockbox?"

"I don't know. Listen --"

"That's just silly."

"Yeah. Listen, Sam's not going to be here today."

Leo raised his head. "I already saw him in the hall."

"He was here, but he had to leave." Josh sighed. "He got a phone call from his sister in Los Angeles."

Leo took his glasses off and leaned forward. "Something's wrong?"

"His mother." Josh waved a hand in the air, looking for words. "She has these phases where she's slightly, um, where she has a hard time with...."

"Out with it, Josh," Leo interrupted mildly.

Josh looked at the floor. "She's mentally ill. Sam's sister takes care of her."

Leo frowned with concern. "I didn't know."

"Yeah. So something happened. He's flying out. He felt bad about just leaving, but I told him he should."

"It's not a problem," Leo assured him.

"Okay." Josh stood up and started toward the door. "I just wanted to let you know."

"Thanks." Leo put his glasses back on. "Hey, is Sam all right?"

Josh paused. "It seemed like he was in shock, when he left. I think it's bad, Leo."

"Keep in touch with him."

Josh nodded and left, his normally jaunty stride weighed down by gloom. Leo sat for a moment, then exhaled slowly and turned back to the budget report, letting the dry facts and figures pull his attention away from his worry.

* * *

"Sir?" Sam felt the flight attendant softly rubbing his shoulder. It took him a moment to realize where he was, and as he did, the horrible reality of what he was about to face thundered through him. He looked up at the flight attendant. "I'm sorry to wake you, but we're about to land."

How in the hell could he have fallen asleep?

From his seat, Sam watched the California land slowly rise up and felt the wheels of the plane meeting the pavement. Disembarking the plane, he repeatedly tried to shake himself awake and wondered what was more disturbing: his mother's actions, or his own.

In the distance, Sam saw his sister's familiar dark hair. He quickly straightened his tie and made his way to her.

"Talia."

She turned around and folded Sam into a tight embrace. After a moment, she pulled back and studied him. "What's this new thing you're doing with your hair?"

"You don't like my hair?"

Talia shrugged. "I don't know yet."

"What do you mean, you don't know yet?"

She shrugged again, this time with a small smile. "It's just... longer than I expected."

"So is yours." Sam took a breath. "How is she?"

"She's at Cedars-Sinai."

"How bad is she, Tails?"

"Tails," she repeated softly. "You haven't called me that--" Talia cleared her throat. "It wasn't pretty, Sam. But Dr. Glass says that she's resting comfortably."

"That means she's sedated." Sam's voice wavered slightly.

Talia expelled an exasperated sigh. "What was I supposed to do, Sam? They were about to strap her to the bed." She noticed her brother's stricken expression and softened her tone. "Do you want to go back to the house first, drop off your bag?"

Sam shook his head. "Let's go to the hospital."

"Are you sure?

"Yes. Yes."

They navigated the airport in silence until Sam caught Talia looking at him.

"You really don't like my hair?"

"I just can't get over how much you look like Dad."

* * *

C.J. paced back and forth across Josh's office, lost in thought. Puzzled, Josh studied her through the window before he walked in.

"What do you need?"

She was startled out of her reverie. "Hmm?"

He closed the door and circled around to his desk. "You're in my office, I assume there's a reason. So?"

"Oh. Yeah. So, I need to know if anything's new with Altman and Aiache."

"They're supposed to send their report over by noon. I'll set up a meeting with them." He could tell she was barely listening. "Are you okay?"

"Of course," she replied, defensively. "Why wouldn't I be okay?"

"You're practically in a trance."

She shook her head, resuming her aimless path around the room. "No, I'm.... It's nothing."

"Come on," he persisted. "Something's obviously bothering you. And stop going around like that! You're making me dizzy. Just sit down and spill it."

She perched on the edge of his desk weakly. "I really don't want to talk about this. I mean, I shouldn't be talking about this to you."

Josh raised his eyebrows and said nothing. C.J. continued, thinking out loud. "This is the kind of thing you talk about with, you know, a girlfriend, or a sister. I don't have any sisters. I don't have any girlfriends, either, since I spend about three hundred percent of my time at work. The only people I talk with anymore are you guys, and I need to talk about it, but I really shouldn't...." She trailed off.

"'Course you should," Josh said encouragingly.

She looked at him, distressed. "If you repeat this to anyone, Joshua... I swear to God, I'll rip off your arms and beat you to death with them."

"Now, why would I--"

"I'll tell the press about what you did after the victory party."

He looked solemn. "I won't tell."

"Last night...." C.J. took a deep breath, then closed her eyes and blurted it out in a rush. "I went to bed with Toby."

Josh stared at her, dumbfounded. To cover the silence, she gushed, "It wasn't like we planned it or anything. We were just having a couple of beers and talking about work, and I'm not even sure how it started--"

She broke off as Josh began to laugh uproariously. C.J. groaned. "I knew I shouldn't have told you."

"No, no," Josh managed, between outbursts. "You had sex with Toby?"

She nodded wretchedly. "It's not funny."

"It's not," he agreed, then spluttered, "You had sex with Toby!" He lapsed back into laughter, pounding lightly on the desk.

She buried her face in her hands, blushing furiously. "Remind me to share with you again. It makes me feel so warm inside."

"I'm sorry." Josh tried to compose himself. "So you had" -- he giggled helplessly -- "Sex. You and Toby."

"You don't have to keep saying that!"

"Oh, yes, I do." He couldn't stop chuckling. "So is this sex thing going to become a big issue?"

C.J. rolled her eyes in disbelief as she jumped to her feet. "We've known each other for ten years. We *work* together, for God's sake. What are you smoking, Josh? *Naturally* it's an issue! I passed him in the hall this morning and we could hardly even look at each other. I don't know what I'm supposed to say to him, let alone how I'm going to work alongside him. What's going to happen the next time we're in a meeting together?"

Josh realized how upset she was, and made an effort to get his amusement under control. "Well, what do you want to have happen?"

She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again, pondering. Finally, she collapsed into one of his chairs. "I don't know," she admitted, forlornly.

"You're both adults," Josh said, reassuringly. "You're smart people; you'll figure something out and it'll be fine."

She looked doubtful. "You really think so?"

"Maybe awkward for a while, but yeah, it'll be fine."

"I hope so." She stood up and started to leave.

"Hold on." C.J. turned back. Josh's eyes twinkled as he battled to keep a straight face. "Can I tell Donna you had sex with Toby?"

"Victory party," she said, ominously.

"Okay," he relented. She shot him a suspicious look and trudged out. He waited until she was out of earshot, then leaned back in his chair and laughed heartily. When Donna appeared in the doorway, watching him with incredulity, he offered no explanation.

* * *

  


	2. I Loved You, God How I Loved You 2

TITLE: "I Loved You, God, How I Loved You" (2/2) 

NOTES: See part one.

* * *

The small blue car pulled into a space in the crowded hospital parking lot. Sam stepped out into the sunlight and stretched. "So we're here."

Talia locked up the car, watching her brother. "We could get coffee or something--"

"No. I really think I should go right up."

"Deirdre talks about you all the time, you know." Talia smiled wistfully. "She tapes every talk show you're on; she has the doctors all impressed--"

"Since when did you call her Deirdre?" Sam interrupted.

She shrugged. "I suppose I just got into the habit."

"It sounds weird. She's our mother."

"You don't have to tell me that," Talia said pointedly. Sam frowned and started to say something. She held a hand up. "I know you're busy; I know you try to keep in touch--"

"I do try."

"Sammy, the last time you called was after the shooting, and that was months ago. And you didn't talk to -- to Mom, then."

"I couldn't," he reminded her, in a defensive tone. "She couldn't find out I was there."

She leaned against the car and sighed. "Yeah. Even though I drove her up to Dad's for the week, it wasn't easy trying to keep her away from the news until things settled down."

"I haven't been out to the ranch in about a year now," Sam said ruefully. "How's Dad doing?"

"He's pretty good. He's done some restorations; the place is really beautiful."

"It always has been," Sam reflected. "It's funny, after all these years, he never got married again."

"It is funny," Talia agreed. "Then again, neither did you."

"No. Neither did you."

"Hey," she said, with mock frustration. "You changed the subject!"

"I'm good at that," he acknowledged.

"I know. Look, here's the thing." She looked at the ground. "Dr. Glass thinks she should be getting round-the-clock treatment."

Sam stepped closer to her. "You mean--"

"Inpatient care."

"Well, you're not going to consider that, are you?" He stared at her. She avoided his gaze. "Talia!"

"Of course I'm considering it, Sam." She faced him seriously. "Maybe that's what she needs. It's not as if she's getting better, you know."

"You can't...." Sam was aghast and angry. "You *can't* just leave her in some kind of institution, with strangers, like you don't care."

"I don't care? Do you know how many days I had to take off work this year?" she demanded, her voice shaky. "Days when she doesn't know where we live, or how to use the gas stove without burning the house down, or days when she just cries for hours because she misses her family? You're not out here, you don't see how it is sometimes. Remember when we were kids, and she'd come by the house all confused, and I'd call Dad to come home while you'd try to calm her down?"

Talia paused as Sam winced at the memory. "I'm not nine years old anymore," she said, haltingly. "Now I'm the adult, and I'm there by myself. I'm the one who has to deal with her every day. I'm the one who had to call the doctor in the middle of the night; I'm the one who had to clean her blood up off my bathroom floor--"

Her voice caught and she couldn't go on. She covered her face and started to cry softly into her hands. Sam was stunned for a few seconds, then moved forward quickly and pulled her into his arms. He held her while she sobbed, and his own eyes blurred.

"I'm sorry, Tails," he murmured into her hair. "God, I'm so sorry. I didn't think."

She tried to catch her breath. "It's okay."

He sniffled. "I just hate the idea--"

"I do too." She looked up at him tearfully. "I just get so tired."

"I know," Sam said, regretfully. "I'm really sorry I don't come out more."

Talia shook her head. "It's not your fault. You do know that, Sam? It's not your fault."

"Sure," he said, though he was unconvinced.

"I mean it." She wiped her eyes with the heel of her hand. "You're doing important work, wonderful work. I shouldn't have made it sound like I think it's unfair. You do what you can, but obviously, it's bad right now, and I'm so damn tired. I just think we should at least think about what the doctor said."

He nodded sadly and glanced up at the tall hospital building. "I guess we should go in now."

"Yeah." Talia straightened up. "She'll be glad to see you."

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm all right."

They began to cross the parking lot. Sam touched his sister's arm. "Hey. Mom doesn't watch 'Capitol Beat', does she?"

She smiled, a familiar teasing grin. "Every time you're on, buddy. And I do mean every time."

"Oh." He rolled his eyes playfully. "Great."

* * *

Toby sat behind his desk, furiously crossing out what he had just written on a yellow legal pad. He did not look up when C.J. entered cautiously. "What?"

"I just thought I'd check in with you on the budget meetings," she said, uncomfortably. "There's a lot of arguing today about defense spending versus arts and education spending, and it's getting heated."

"Let me guess," Toby muttered sardonically. "We're going to raise taxes and bankrupt the military in order to fund the placement of pornography in elementary school libraries?"

"Something like that," C.J. confirmed. "At least, if you're listening to Stauber and his minions. So I'm thinking maybe it's time to change our approach with the press. We shouldn't exactly keep downplaying the disagreements, but I also don't want to be the first one to make it personal."

"Start hinting that the conflict is due to an obstinate, uncooperative Congress, perversely more interested in attacking the White House than working towards a compromise. Just don't say it like that. Put it nicely."

"Call them perverse in a nice way? I can do that."

"Yes." He looked tired. "Anything else?"

"Not really. I guess Sam's out of town."

"Personal time. Taken, I might add, inconveniently, in the middle of our busiest time of year."

C.J. was taken aback. "It's not his fault."

"I know."

"When are we not busy?"

"I know."

He picked up his legal pad and studied it darkly. She hesitated, then closed the door, keeping a hand on the doorknob to steady herself. "We have to talk about it," she told him, bluntly.

Toby glowered at the paper. "We're at work."

"Toby...." He set the pad down, put a hand to his forehead and looked up at her grimly, waiting for her to say more.

"We have to be mature about this. Pretending it never happened is a bad idea; it's like the elephant in the middle of the room. You can't ignore it." C.J. wished desperately that he'd interrupt her. He didn't, so she continued, "I'm saying, we're both committed to our jobs more than we are to our social lives. We spend a lot of time around each other; maybe that's why... I don't know. We're intelligent people. There's no reason we can't work this out in a way that won't ruin things."

His expression hadn't changed, but his voice was oddly quiet. "Yes. And?"

"Last night doesn't have to mean anything."

She looked at him expectantly. He seemed to change his posture, to withdraw, almost imperceptibly. She knew she was imagining it. "You're right," Toby said, calmly. "It doesn't. We're adults. Mistakes happen, and people get on with life."

"They do," she agreed. If she failed to keep a tinge of disappointment out of her voice, he did not react to it. "And now that we've talked about it, it won't be hanging over our heads."

He picked up his pen. "We're done?"

She nodded deliberately. "How's the victims' rights thing coming?"

"It won't be done until Thursday," he admitted. "I ought to wait for Sam's input anyway."

C.J. sighed. "Personal problems don't wait for when it's convenient."

"Obviously not."

Toby's attention was already back on his writing. C.J. lingered, ambivalent and awkward, then turned decisively. She left the door ajar as she hurried away. When she was gone, Toby slouched slightly in his chair, with what a casual observer would have taken for relief. His demeanor seemed only a trifle more weary and bleak than usual. After a short while passed, he pulled himself up and went back to work.

* * *

The hallways smelled the same. The scent took Sam back to the last time he'd visited his mother here. Images that Sam hadn't thought of in years flashed through his mind. They made him simultaneously hate himself for forgetting and pray that he would never remember again.

He'd left Talia in the cafeteria, wearily sipping a cup of coffee. His sister had literally been awake for days, and she needed to rest. Moreover, Sam needed to see his mother on his own.

With what felt like all the energy he had, Sam slowly opened Deirdre's door. As he entered, the first thing he noticed was the scent of stargazer lilies. Scanning the room, he saw a large bouquet of them across from Deirdre's bed. He knew, without reading the card, that his father had sent them. Sam walked to the flowers and inhaled deeply, letting his fingers linger on the soft petals and letting his mind wander back to those occasions when his mother seemed sound.

His mother.

Sam turned from the flowers and looked at her sleeping form. He was startled to see how old she looked. The skin of her face was still smooth and her dark hair was free of gray, but something about her was different. All at once, it struck him: she didn't look old. Rather, she looked fragile.

Sam eased into a chair at his mother's side. He took her hand gently, fearful he would hurt her. Several minutes passed as Sam lightly rubbed her hand and watched her sleep.

He also watched as she began to stir. Her legs kicked under the blankets and her breathing grew quicker, but her hand never pulled away from Sam's grasp. Deirdre moaned softly, her head lolling on the pillow, and her eyes began to flutter open. Sam desperately hoped that when she woke, it wouldn't be like the last time. He hoped she wouldn't be afraid.

"Hi, Mom," Sam tightened his grip on her hand.

With a wide smile, Deirdre reached up with her left hand and placed it on Sam's cheek. "My sweet boy." Her smile disappeared when she noticed her bandages. "Oh, no. Oh, Sammy." Deirdre's large, dark eyes filled with tears. "I did this?"

"You'll be fine," he whispered, his voice thick. Quickly, he cleared his throat and changed the subject. "It's good to see you."

"Did Daddy send those flowers?"

"He did."

"I knew he did." Deirdre smiled again, proudly. "I'm lucky to have such a husband, such a family."

Sam winced at her words; he didn't have the heart to remind her that she and Barry Seaborn had been divorced for twenty-seven years.

"Sweetheart, how about we go get some ice cream? Would you like some ice cream?"

"Not right now, Mom. You need to rest." Sam's eyes stung as he watched his mother's face fall.

"You don't want to go?"

"Mom, you're in the hospital." Sam measured his words carefully. "You need to rest right now, okay? We can go later."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

Deirdre's eyes flickered between the flowers and her son, and she chuckled ruefully. "I'll bet your sister's really mad at me, huh?"

"She's -- concerned."

"Oh, Sammy, please. I'm sure she's furious."

Sam sighed. "Yes. Talia is mad. But she worries about you, Mom."

Deirdre studied her hands. "This isn't what I thought my life would be like." She suddenly grabbed Sam's arm and looked at him with pleading eyes. "Get married, Sammy. Have children and tell them you love them."

"Mom, I know you love me--"

Deirdre kept talking. "You were so little when you were born. So little. And they took you away and cleaned you, and I could see. I could see how beautiful you were. You cried and cried, and then they brought you to me and you stopped crying. I looked at your beautiful face and your little shock of hair, and I loved you, God, how I loved you. You were my sweet boy." She looked at her son and touched his cheek again. "Still are."

Sam swallowed against the lump in his throat; he wouldn't cry here. "Mom..."

She sighed sadly. "You live so far away." Her voice changed, became strong and lucid. "But that's okay. I forgive you." Deirdre's eyes, suddenly clear, scanned Sam's face with desperation, and he knew what she was asking of him.

"Thank you," he said softly. "It means a lot to know that." He leaned over and kissed her cheek. "You need to rest."

"I do," she agreed. "Will you come back?"

"Of course."

"And we can go for ice cream?"

Sam tried to smile. "You bet." He went to the door and, casting another glance at the flowers, quietly closed it behind him.

* * *

Sam wandered the hall until he found a spot where he was sure he wouldn't disturb anyone. Pulling out his cell phone, he dialed Josh's number and Donna quickly put him through.

"Hey, buddy."

"Hey, Josh."

Josh noticed Donna lingering in his doorway. He glared at her, and she disappeared. "Are you okay?"

Sam sighed. "Yeah. It's just - she's fine sometimes. She has these moments, and she's fine. But...."

"I know."

He cleared his throat. "So yeah, I'm staying out here through the end of the week. Tell Leo I'll be back on Monday."

"Leo says to take as much time as you need."

"Tell Leo I'll be back on Monday."

Josh spied C.J. in the hallway. "Hang on," he said into the phone, cupping the mouthpiece with his hand. "Claudia Jean!"

She walked into his office. "You rang?"

"Sam's having a bad day, and I think it would really cheer him up to hear...you know."

"You cried at 'Evita'."

"Just a thought." Turning his attention back to the phone, he said, "Sorry about that."

"Did I hear C.J.?" Sam rubbed his eyes.

"Uh, no. Listen, give my love to Talia."

"I will."

Josh doodled on his legal pad. "You know you can--"

"I know."

Sam shut off his phone and slid it back into his jacket pocket. As he walked past Deirdre's room, he saw that she was still asleep. He paused briefly at her door, then continued down the hall.

* * *

The End.

  


End file.
